The Orwells
Last Days in August
I'd like to be
Closer to you
Outside your doorstep
Somewhere with a view
I'm digging in the backyard
With a bee sting in my arm
And ill meet you if they let me
But I promised I wouldn't go far

Sick of the sweet summer breeze
Always ending in dead autumn leaves

I'm sorry I'm a let down
I've scraped both my knees
I got dirt inside my nails
And my brains in a freeze
Oh Mayra come find me
I'm hiding in the tree
With the dead trunk
And the red leaves
And I'm counting to three

Oh Mayra
Sick of the sweet summer breeze
Always ending in dead autumn leaves
Oh
Sick of the sweet summer breeze
Oh
Ending in dead autumn leaves